


The Bitterness of Morning Coffee

by Suiisen



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, I still don't know how to actually tag stuff on here but we will keep trying, M/M, Other, mmm bittersweetness, no beta we die like men, soft angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:48:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27822550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suiisen/pseuds/Suiisen
Summary: The warmth of post school afternoons brings back memories of him — him and you together, however long ago that was.
Relationships: Usuri Michiru / Reader
Kudos: 1





	The Bitterness of Morning Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Published on my Tumblr @kiinmokuseii

Usuri Michiru. 

The name lingers on your tongue not unlike the welcome flavour of tart morning coffee, softened by the warmth of added milk or cream. He always remembered that you never added sugar to your coffee; it was a pointless act to sweeten something you could never taste in comparison to the raw brew - a waste of sugar, a waste of words.

A study date you'd called it, back then.

* * *

Warm post-school afternoons and warmer laughter mingled with the sigh of relief that letting your heavy bag slip down and away prompted, sliding off of your shoulders and onto the bedroom floor with a satisfying thud. You'd hummed softly to yourself while waiting for him to come back to you, head tipped back - becoming drunk on the comforting embrace of the amber light filtering in through the blinds.

He'd raced up the stairs, raced back to you - balancing piles of your favourite snacks in his arms and two cups of coffee gripped in his hands - added cream, no sugar. You'd chuckled when you saw him, and in all his zeal Usuri had spilled a sip of his coffee onto your nightstand. A panicked pause tailgated by profuse apologies; you dissolved it with laughter, and he couldn't help but soften, protesting against your amusement.

You'd clean it up later, that was the verdict that ambient summer evening. Later, once he had left to go home for the night.

* * *

A study date in only name, the material you'd wanted to revise left untouched as your thoughts became preoccupied with the mundane - the two of you would talk of everything and anything but what you were meant to, books and pencils neatly piled up on the tatami table in between.

* * *

He'd kissed you once, there in your room during one such date. The blinds half open as he leaned over, bathing you in the evening as his lips barely brushed yours. Shyness had replaced the boldness of his initial movements, but it felt like the soft milk foam dusted in cinnamon meeting your lips before the coffee did.

* * *

You clung to that sensation now. Clung to the feeling of milk foam whenever you brought the brim of your cup to your lips, drinking in the poignancy.

Neither of you would be able to place when exactly it happened. Neither of you could give the date, or even a clumsy why. But he no longer came over, and he no longer spilled coffee onto your furniture by accident - the feeling of his soft hair in your fingers was only a phantom pain.

He's that ring of dried, bitter caffeine; the clumsy coffee stain he'd left upon the pristinely cluttered surface of your nightstand that one afternoon, weeks ago. It's the only evidence of his presence you had - a stain, maybe, but not once had you thought of wiping it away, as though you'd lose the precious time you'd spent together with it. 

Gone, just like that.

A delicate milk foam kiss and the bitterness of morning coffee; your lasting memory of him.


End file.
